Love Is Strength And Determination
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: BITE CLUB SPOILERS... But most of you should have read by now! Basically it is Amelie and Oliver around the time they find Myrnin killed Bishop & then afterwards. *for FireFrenzy596* r&r guys!


**This has, like nearly every one of my other Amelie/Oliver oneshots or stories, been written for FireFrenzy596**

**This also **CONTAINS BITE CLUB SPOILERS**…. BUT BITE CLUB IS OUT IN AMERICA NOW! SO YOU ALL CAN READ THIS FIC!**

**I don't own anything**

_Amelie's POV:_

We have narrowed down my father's location to a building on the outskirts of town, where this fight club – though I believe the term is 'Bite Club' – is being held. He is in there. We can destroy him here, now.

"Everything will be fine, Amelie," Oliver soothes me, and I am more thankful for his company than I would ever admit to him. He is such strength in a situation as this and though I show myself to be unwavering in strength at the moment, I know that that is far from the truth. I truly cannot say _how_ I feel towards him at the minute – every morsel of energy in me is being tied up in this final 'showdown' with my father.

"I know that," I say sharply, my voice colder than ice though it isn't because I hate Oliver… quite the opposite. "Direct the troops when we arrive, Oliver. I wish to see him for the last time and have my attention firmly focused that he doesn't escape _again_," I continue, slightly warmer in my tone but it still being icy.

"Yes, Amelie," he sighs, marching with me down the road at a steady speed – not too fast so that the humans can keep up, but certainly not dawdling either. And so we arrive at the building and someone calls for anyone inside to step out.

As they do so, my fear being that it is my father growing ever more so, Oliver orders troop after troop of vampires to go to different places around the area, backing each other up. I, on the other hand, remain deathly silent and still, not doing a single thing in the fight against the people inside who remain loyal to my father. He seems to be enjoying his power and control of the situation, though I could take over at any time… yet I have no inclination to. I simply wish to see my father dead, forever this time, and Oliver can take charge of the troops… I need to speak with him afterwards, but I may have come to a decision.

_You have to be kidding me_! I exclaim in my head as Claire and Shane step out of the building, soon to be taken down by police (human). They had to build up such a climax in my head, the ending being that I could watch my father being shot dead.

Myrnin soon steps out as well – why on earth _he_ is here is beyond me – but I ignore him, still expecting to be able to see Bishop stepping out after them, trying to sneak away and using them as diversions. But what Myrnin says… it makes me blink and focus on him. _Did he just say that my father is dead_?

I cannot believe it. Myrnin, the person who leads everyone to believe he is entirely brave but is actually a coward, has killed him, the one person who I have ever feared. But I don't believe him.

With a motion to Oliver so slight that none of the others could see it, I direct that we are to enter the burnt building, to search for his remains and see if Myrnin is lying. So I step forwards swiftly, past the laughing humans, Oliver rushing in front of me to 'protect' me, something which makes me absolutely sure of his feelings for me. He carries a sword which I last used three hundred years ago and has lined the walls of my 'fighting equipment' room in my home, the same place where I store my fencing clothing.

We head through the building and find the ash pile which is my father; Myrnin, the cowardly alchemist – cowardly in terms of my father, at least, a person he preferred to play the jester to – has truly killed my father with a contraption he invented himself and was so ridiculous it ought to have not worked. But it did. Bishop is finally dead, after over 1500 years of life…

I feel a huge smile spreading over my face as I process how my father is _truly_ dead. No more half measures; he is truly gone. There is nothing of him left whatsoever, because of the silver, and I never have to worry about him again.

This war is over.

"Amelie," Oliver says my name in a voice which is _entirely_ different from how he was speaking earlier, when it was all barks and direct orders. This is more… soft, gentle… as if he is speaking to someone he loves.

Which is the final confirmation I need that he is in love with me.

The question remains – am I in love with him? Can I forget Samuel enough in my heart to acknowledge the building feelings I have for Oliver, ones which were absolutely confirmed when we fenced but probably before that. I have had my eyes shut for so long to how he has felt, how he changed from hating me to supporting me suddenly, and I regret that. If I had seen it at the beginning, rather than denying it, Samuel would have died but as a human – his family would have always loved him, because I wouldn't need him. I would have had Oliver.

But back to the present. I move a step closer to Oliver, letting the smile remain on my face and remove all barriers to my emotions from my eyes and face. I do not know what he will see, but he has the chance to see how I feel for him, once and for all.

"Er," he sounds unsure what to say, for the first time in his life no doubt, evidently seeing something that spurs him on in my eyes. "Amelie, I have told you this before but I don't believe that you believed me… I lo-" he says, before I cut him off. I was about to kiss him before deciding that this isn't the place…

"We can discuss this later," I say sharply, stepping away from him in one fluid movement; I cannot discuss my love for him in this disgusting place, where the remnants of my father remain on the floor.

"I..." he begins, but sounds hurt that I rejected him. But I step away from him again, further, as people begin to emerge through the hole in the wall in the building, keen to see the destruction of Bishop and Gloriana for themselves… I wish they hadn't come, for it has interrupted me and Oliver.

OoOo

"So…" Oliver says as he stands in my living room – not my office; it is too happy an occasion to use that. I smile and run my left hand through my loose hair, taking a sip of the red wine in the crystal glass held in my right at the same time. I am entirely relaxed – much more so than I would normally be in company – but it is the after effects of a war: you realise that you need to be relaxed in no matter what the circumstances. Hence the reason I am wearing a champagne coloured silk dressing gown over an ivory nightgown in the company of another – I cannot face rigidity in my clothes and behaviour anymore. Not for tonight, at least. Tonight, I ought to be able to relax with Oliver and celebrate our victory though we did not raise the sword ourselves… rather, I should say silver contraption.

"Yes, I believe 'so' is the correct word to sum up everything," I agree with a coy smile, almost unable to believe that I am doing this. It is strange, to finally give in to your heart's desires, what it has wanted for so long but you have denied in order to stay strong and distant.

"Did I mention that you look utterly beautiful tonight, Amelie?" Oliver compliments me, his husky voice sounding almost embarrassed. I blush before looking at him as he takes some of his wine and I wonder how I ever saw him as an old man. Physically, he is almost double my age, but I am double his _easily_ in our true age, but I don't personally see this as a problem… why should it matter how someone _appears_ if your heart desires their personality?

"You did as you entered… or rather, your expression gave it away," I laugh, becoming as relaxed as I used to be in the past, before I decided that ice cold and perfect ought to be how a ruler is to be perceived. How he still loves me, when I am like this, is beyond me… for I used to be entirely as he is; strong and passionate, fighting for what I believe in vehemently and without question. I never ran from anything… but I was young and foolish for _many_ human lifetimes, too many. It was this that meant my father escaped death, for I was too proud to check he was dead – I simply believed it.

"Then I am glad I clarified my expression verbally," he smiles slowly, as if to make this moment last longer. I know it is my turn to speak and time to confess to my feelings now, rather than waiting for goodness knows how much longer, but not knowing how to do so is strange.

"Oliver… I do not know how to put this, for I do not have much experience in the matter," I begin slowly, looking away from him and into the depths of my glass of wine. I move with deliberate care, setting the glass down on the mahogany table with a 'clink' and remaining in this hunched over position in opposition to looking him in the face.

"Never fear, I am here to explain my feelings first, if you would so rather?" he suggests and I smile, turning back to face him. Yet I do not meet his eyes, fearful that I would react instinctively if I do so, and simply nod.

"That would be perfect," I smile once again, my pearly white teeth orbs into which he seems to be transfixed.

"As you have to _undoubtedly_ know, I have harboured feelings for you for an _extremely_ long time: romantic ones with dreams of being together for the rest of our long lives," he begins, and I smile again, knowing that this is the path I wish to take. "I know you mirror these feelings and I can only hope that with what had been going on, you realise that accepting love is not a weakness but rather a confirmation of strength and determination. I love you, Amelie, with all my heart and I just want you, even if you decide not to act on it, to admit that you feel the same... please," his eyes smoulder as I end up looking into them, unable to stop myself as I hear the emotion and passion in his voice.

I am unable to stop myself from reaching out and stroking his perfect face, my hand tracing his unblemished cheekbones as his head turns to fully face me. He smiles but I only see that his face is stamping itself on my heart, making me unable to ignore him. I cannot let him leave the house without being with me officially - a relationship that has existed for so long but been unlabelled for the entirety of its existence.

"Oliver," I whisper his name as the hand not on his face takes one of his, my body edging closer to him as I confirm my decision with myself. "I... I think I love you," I continue, almost entirely positive that this is the case but not wanting to be so definitive so quickly.

I am about to say something else but his mouth is on mine, both of his hands instantly on my face, in my hair, pulling me closer to him. I succumb to him, for once not fighting, us being simply equal partners for the first time, truly. It is miraculous that this has happened, that underneath all the angst and anguish between us there was simply a love that conquers all.

Samuel crosses my mind for a moment, as I kiss Oliver so openly and without hiding my feelings, but I quash the feeling of guilt. _He_ left _me_ eternally, not the other way around and I don't see it as being wrong that I have found someone who was mine before Samuel anyway.

I kiss him back for goodness knows how long, until my new assistant knocks at the closed door. Here, I throw Oliver off me, something which he seems to regret, and call for her to enter the room, inwardly fuming that she could interrupt something so perfect.

I send Oliver a look of longing, which he reciprocates, as Bizzie speaks, "Ma'am, there is a _slight_ issue with Common Grounds," she says, not addressing Oliver directly because I own the building.

"Very well," I sigh, tightening the belt on the dressing gown which slipped slightly… during… "Bizzie, inform us. We do not have all day," I indicate to Oliver as well, making Bizzie look over at him in confusion before just _finally_ explaining it.

"Well, um, Myrnin has graffitied all over the walls, discussing Oliver and his um… love for… pink bunny rabbits, the shopaholic series and… and… men," she explains hesitantly.

I shake my head, wondering whether if we will ever get a normal day in Morganville. Something tells me that that isn't going to happen.

**So… I ended on a **_**slightly**_** more humorous note, as humour seems to be my forte at the minute!**

**Review please!**

**Vicky xx**


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